


oh, burst me into bloom

by InsolitaParvaPuella



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Human/Monster Sex, Impregnation, Love, Married Couple, Music, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Transformation, Vaginal Sex, downward dog position
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22692643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsolitaParvaPuella/pseuds/InsolitaParvaPuella
Summary: A collection of reasonably short bits of smut. Assorted pairings and settings.Most recently: Dimitri and Byleth make love for the purpose of procreation.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 10
Kudos: 169





	1. Dimitri/Byleth - monsterfucking

**Author's Note:**

> so, like, i'm not a huge fan of fics that are a series of disconnected oneshots tagged with every ship and kink under the sun, so this collection is for stuff i genuinely do not know where else to put them and feel too short to sit on their own, and i'll try to keep my tagging under control but also very clear. also, i wanna make it super easy to see what ships and scenarios are where. chapter titles and the list below (which i will definitely expand on, i have some stuff in the works that just needs to be edited) should help keep it clear what is where.
> 
> First: Dimitri/Byleth, post-canon, monsterfucking.  
> Second: Ashe/Edelgard, post-canon, semi-public oral sex.  
> Third: Dimitri/Byleth, post-canon, impregnation kink.

The first time Byleth saw Dimitri after she received his letter (“Beloved, I am not well and require your assistance in state matters until I am recovered. Yours, Dimitri.”) he was still able to stand on two legs. Shortly after her arrival he fell into all fours, and she did not see him stand again. By the time she had arrived, his transformation had become obvious, and the news had been spread that the King of Faerghus had taken ill, and could not leave the castle lest his condition worsen. Byleth understood immediately her intended role. The tasks of the Archbishop could be attended to by Seteth, as well as the small staff she had gathered in her two years. Faerghus needed her Queen.

But Dimitri also needed his wife, and so while Byleth would work tirelessly in the mornings and early afternoons at state business, she would retire from her work as the winter sun began to set. She would get dressed in her warmest cloak, then descend into the castle’s ancient, crumbling dungeons, carrying books and potions and medicines and candles to light her work. She was not the only one to descend, but she was the only one to do so night after night.

Had she been given her way, Dimitri would still be in the Royal Suite, in comfort. But his last request, before he entirely lost his power of speech, was to be kept under the castle, somewhere where he could be easily restrained. In case he ran wild, or bloodlust overtook him. And she did not deny this final plea, uttered from a mouth that could hardly form words, but even now, he was docile. 

Byleth would read books and do experiments at the desk she had brought down, searching for clues or ancient remedies, while Dimitri would watch her from a cell. Though he looked for all the world like a Demonic Beast, she could see his intelligence in his eyes. With gestures, he could communicate with her, though it seemed not to come easily to him. Far simpler to ask him simple questions than to play games trying to discern his meaning.

Most nights she would be escorted back to the Royal Suites for rest, and then another day of work. But occasionally she would find a lead too alluring to ignore, and she would stay in the dungeon, filling the silence by relaying her thoughts to Dimitri. She was no great scholar, but she was endlessly curious and willing to study, and when scholars or her former students came to study with her, they could expand her ideas with their expertise.

On this night Byleth was alone, so she took her book and candle into the cell where Dimitri lay. The dungeon was cold, but she leaned against his furry belly and found it ran hot. It was like leaning against an oven, keeping her blood from freezing as she read. But at some point in the night the warmth and the slow rise-and-fall of his breathing lulled her to sleep. 

For once, she dreamed of erotic things. Memories of making love to her husband in the days after their marriage. Secret love notes passed between them when there was work to be done. The feeling of waking up in his arms, surrounded by warmth and his scent. 

She woke up wet and wanting, her face pressed into Dimitri’s belly. He did not smell of himself any longer, but his fur was soft and he’d curled around her somewhat in his sleep. They were alone, so Byleth pressed two fingers over her clitoris, through the fabric of her dress, and wound tight circles around it. It was nothing to bring herself to orgasm, and she sighed and relaxed into Dimitri as she did.

There was a snuffling noise, and Dimitri lifted his head, turning his good eye to her. Her husband made no effort to hide his feelings when he was with her, and so she could read the wanting in his gaze. He wanted the comfort of their marriage bed as much as she did, but he had no means to find it. Unless she offered. Words never came easily to her, and though she now knew her own heart, feelings were the most difficult thing to articulate. Better for her to act instead.

She raised her skirt and worked quickly to make herself bare from the hips down. She could smell her own arousal, but there was another smell. Something like sex, but darker. More pungent. At no point had she seen genitalia on Dimitri’s transformed body, but perhaps this was what his arousal smelled like in this new shape. The scent was heavy and clung to the back of her throat and though it was strange to her, she could feel her body answering her husband’s arousal.

A low growl rumbled through his body. Byleth could feel the tremors in herself. She went from sitting to kneeling and locked eyes with Dimitri.

“I am not afraid,” she said. “It does not matter your form, you are my husband and I am your wife. If I have any means to give you comfort, I will do it without hesitation.” These words were easy. She had already made these promises in poetry and handfasting and rings. After that, words were no trouble.

And Dimitri raised his great body until he seemed to fill the cell, leaving her kneeling under him. Byleth turned to where she would expect to see a beast’s cock and saw something— _a phallus_ growing from a slit in his belly. For a beast of his size it was quite small, but his body was so enormous that it hardly mattered. She and Dimitri had played with getting his hand into her sex with some success, and this phallus was easily the same girth. No matter, she was determined and curious and loved her husband. He would not bring her to harm, and so she could leave herself at his mercy.

Carefully, knowing he could not see her, she took his phallus into her hands. It was nearly as long as her arm and the skin was thick and soft. When she pulled the skin down it slid away slowly and she saw the head, a tapered thing with a rounded end that would likely open her up more easily than his hand ever had. She wet her lips and then lathed her tongue along it. The taste was as the smell, darker and more pungent than she was used to and it stuck to the back of her mouth. Try as she might, she could not open her mouth wide enough to get the head in her mouth without the risk of her teeth scraping the fragile skin.

The phallus jerked in her hands occasionally, and she could feel Dimitri duck his head and tremble. The thick mane of fur on his neck shook like grass. His tail swept side-to-side. Byleth did not attempt anything more than licking, going from the head to the shaft and back, and when she was satisfied that at least the head was wet, she released it.

Byleth went to her hands and knees, and then seeing the distance between their bodies, made her body into a V, thrusting her sex into the air while pressing deep into the ground with her hands and feet. It was a blatant offer and while she felt a little foolish, it only took a second for the phallus to bump her entrance. She gasped out a little “there!” and Dimitri thrust against her in earnest, pressing his phallus against her open sex again and again. He kept readjusting his stance and his claw clicked and scraped along the stone floor.

The head slipped in and Byleth’s arms shook. It was so much bigger than she had expected. Her body opened willingly and the head parted her flesh as expected, but there was still a distant feeling of stretching and burning. She could hear Dimitri panting, his breath coming in great huffs. With one great thrust so strong that Byleth was nearly knocked over, the phallus slid as deep as it could into her. She felt her insides squeeze to accommodate it. Briefly, she wondered if the squeezing and position could lead her to vomit. Then she stopped thinking, because Dimitri thrust into her again. And again. There was no hesitation.

Byleth put every last bit of attention she could muster into staying in position, but her mind was hazy. The phallus was too big and much too long for her and so with each thrust it stretched her insides further. Fact told her that this could not permanently stretch her, but in the moment she could hardly believe anything would ever fill her this completely again. The pressure seemed to force the water in her body out through tears and saliva. Her damp face was soaked and she choked on her spit.

The thick skin on the shaft dragged against her insides. Too soft to do harm, but more friction than she had ever experienced before. With every thrust in the phallus would fill her, and with each withdrawal the skin would be slower to pull away, lighting her insides on fire.

It was too much sensation. She couldn’t find her way to climax in all the other feelings. But she felt a sharp bolt of pleasure when she heard and felt Dimitri’s breathing and rhythm stutter, as it always did right before orgasm. Even reshaped, he was the same. His claws dug grooves into the stone and his head thrashed, though Byleth could only see it in the corner of her clouded, tear-filled eyes. Dimitri’s harsh breathing sounded like growls, ones that made her bones vibrate.

His spend poured into her, hot and thick and overflowing her sex. As he thrust into her weakly, chasing the tail of his orgasm, more and more spend sloshed out of her. He pressed into her one final time and she collapsed, sliding off his phallus as she went down into what felt like a puddle of come. It dripped and oozed around her fingers as she fell onto her belly, rolled to her back, and ground a second orgasm from her swollen, slippery clit. She panted and turned her hot cheek to the cold stone floor for a minute, just to catch her breath. She was soaked in his seed and it cooled and turned sticky on her exposed skin.

Then, carefully, she went to her shaking hands and knees and crawled to Dimitri’s head. He laid himself down again, and carefully set his head in her lap. Byleth leaned against him, tucking her face into his mane and stroking him gently. She would have to leave soon, sneaking to her rooms where she could clean up. But for another few minutes, she laid with her husband as her heartbeat settled.

She took handfuls of his mane and said, “Any comfort you want, without hesitation.” Her husband whimpered and nuzzled into her body, and she said nothing else.


	2. Ashe/Edelgard - semi-public oral sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe and Edelgard go to the opera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hell or high water or lack of canon evidence, i will make this ship sail. but for now, i row this canoe and lament that others convinced me of how adorbs this ship would be. one day i'll write about them not having sex and you'll all see.

When the opera hall has finished applauding their Emperor Ashe sneaks into the theatre box, closing the door and then curtains behind him. He is not quite Edelgard’s partner, nor the Emperor’s bodyguard. Something between the two, perhaps the left hand (the one that contains the _vena amoris_ ) to Hubert’s right hand. Either way, he is not to be seen entering the theatre box with her _yet_. As soon as stability has been established.

This is one more act of restoring stability. The Emperor has no quarrel with the arts beyond, perhaps, its reliance on the Church’s narratives, and so as soon as the war was over she had moved a fraction of the military’s funds to the Mittelfrank Opera Company, to demonstrate that she would be a patron of arts and culture. The company already has an excellent selection of secular plays and operas, after all. She is in attendance in an official capacity to show that support again. And if she was also supporting Dorothea and Manuela as they returned to the stage, well, that was a fine bonus.

Ashe takes his seat beside Edelgard as the orchestra begins to play, opening with a single, unified note from every player. The lights are dim and the music is loud, and Ashe hasn’t heard an orchestra like this before. He’s heard the piecemeal bands that gather in pubs and the occasional chamber orchestra, but this group is at least a hundred-strong, and their music roars through him. 

The opera is fantastic. The music and singing are all new to Ashe’s ears, and the sets and costumes are spectacular. When Dorothea enters the stage he has to remind himself not to applaud. But he’s also had a thought burning in the back of his mind since two nights ago, when Edelgard idly mentioned that the opera was a popular location for _mischief_. The way she said it, he’d understood immediately. And only last night she had told him that she would not object to him being more spontaneous. He’d followed her suggestion and snuck a kiss from her before she went to her box, but he has other plans brewing.

Under any other circumstances he would have paid attention to the opera and the divine music. But the confluence of ideas is too alluring, and he knows Edelgard will enjoy this _mischief_ he’s planned.

At first, he just takes her hand, stroking her fingers under his. It’s a comforting gesture, and there’s a little thrill in being able to take her hand in the darkness. The knowledge that no one else can see them, if they even thought to look, makes a greedy part of Ashe delighted. It’s almost silly, compared to what he has planned, to be so delighted in a little hand-holding but he’s almost never at Edelgard’s side in public. 

Very carefully, he slides his hand to her wrist and scratches at the delicate skin, so carefully that there is no chance she’ll feel pain. Instead, it will wake up her skin, making her far more sensitive to any other touches. He cannot hear her sigh under the music and Dorothea’s powerful voice, but he can see her relax, nearly imperceptibly, from the corner of her eye. He lets his nails drift up her arm, and feels her raise her arm, to give him more room to continue those gentle scratches. She is shivering ever so slightly.

The music softens, as does the singing. Whatever the story of this opera, this is a lull in the intensity. Ashe leans down and kisses the top of Edelgard’s ear. He whispers, “Let me give you this.” Edelgard shivers again, and he sees her nod. There’s something incredible about how her expression remains neutral and her eyes never leave the stage. Ashe would be— _is_ —impossibly distracted by this. But Edelgard never falters. 

He knows she is unflappable, but he cannot help but attempt to distract her by sucking her earlobe, kissing her neck, sweeping his fingers along the undersides of her breasts firmly enough that she will be able to feel it under the heavy fabric she’s dressed in.

Edelgard shows no sign of distraction from the performance except that she grips his free hand and squeezes it softly. Her hard nails dig into the meat of his palm _just so_ , and Ashe feels a tingle up his spine. He can imagine another version of this night at the opera where Edelgard plays his body like an instrument, but never turns her eye to him. The thought gets him hot all over, and he goes from vaguely aroused to completely hard. 

To keep him from thinking of that wonderful idea any further, Ashe drops to his knees in silence. It takes a moment to contend with the heavy fabric of Edelgard’s gown, but when he slides under it she uncrosses her legs and opens them. _She is not wearing anything._ Between the knowledge that she was expecting this, _anticipating this_ , and the smell of her arousal, Ashe feels nearly dizzy as the blood in his body leaves his head and all goes to his aching cock. It is painfully obvious what his job is meant to be.

He runs one hand along her calf, and the other rubs along the outside of her thigh. He presses kisses to her legs and then presses his face into the apex of her thighs. Something about her posture changes, perhaps a slight slouch, and her sex is rising to meet his mouth. She is damp, but not nearly aroused enough for Ashe’s liking. 

He licks and sucks his own lips for a moment, then he runs his tongue between her lips and finds her slick gathered there. He laps at it, spreading her arousal around her labia and then makes his tongue flat and glides it up, letting her clit slide down the centre of his tongue. He hardens his tongue and rolls her clit under the tip, then brings his lips down to suck gently. Somewhere, beyond the heavy fabric, the music is flowing and the singing has reached a new height of drama. Suddenly, it grows more intense and Edelgard’s thighs close around his head. Ashe pulls in a deep breath through his nose. He is smothered in heat and wet and sex. With only a little effort, he slides two of his fingers into Edelgard and sucks greedily at her clit.

This rhythm is comfortable and familiar. He's not looking to bring her to orgasm immediately. Her thighs twitch and flex minutely, adjusting themselves on her shoulders. One of her sharp heels pokes into his spine. Ashe can see her in his mind's eye, perfectly cool and neutral, giving no hint that he is tucked under her dress, bringing her gradually to the brink.

The music grows more intense. To Ashe's ears, it sounds like it's nearing its end. Something presses against the back of his head. In a flash of recognition he realises it's her hand, prompting him to finish his work. He redoubles his efforts, flicking his tongue against her clit and pressing his fingers up, into a sensitive place in her cunt. The music rises, it peaks, and Edelgard pulses around his fingers. The orchestra finishes with one loud note in unison and falls silent. Edelgard's whole body relaxes with a sigh he can feel but not hear, and then there is applause.

Edelgard pulls her skirts up slightly and Ashe takes the hint, slipping out. He stays kneeling at her feet, catching his breath and trying to calm down while he licks his fingers clean. Edelgard smiles gently, glancing down at him for a moment.

"So, that's opera?" Ashe asks, feeling proud. 

"The first act," Edelgard says, looking just a little smug. "Act two starts in fifteen minutes. These stories traditionally have a reversal at the halfway mark, so I think you'll find the second half _most entertaining_." 

Ashe's heart leaps, but he cannot help smiling. "I think I love the opera," he says, and Edelgard smiles down on him like art, like music.


	3. dimitri/byleth - impregnation kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Dimitri have sex for the purpose of procreation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should mention than i take requests, huh. well, i learned to write fanfic on the lj kink memes of yore, so i like the challenge of getting a ship and a kink and going for it. i can't promise to write something for all requests, but feel free to put a request out there (in the comments i guess?) and maybe i'll do it.

There is something empty, a craving in the pit of Byleth’s stomach. She is a keen study of her own feelings now that they are no longer shocks to her, and she recognises them slowly, each day a new aspect of the feeling unveiling itself to her. She sees Mercedes cradling her and Dedue’s son when they come to Garreg Mach and wants something. She visits House Gautier on the way to Fhirdiad and sees Dorothea, glowing with pride and joy as Byleth gets the chance to cup her swollen belly. She is so big that there is a chance she is carrying twins, Dorothea whispers excitedly. Sylvain takes every chance to stand behind her and hold her from behind, pride coming from him in waves.

When night falls, Byleth lies alone in their guest room and lays a hand low on her belly, where her womb rests small and empty, and feels a twinge between her legs. She and Dimitri have talked about children—it was a key matter Manuela advised them to discuss before their marriage. There is agreement that they would make no special effort to conceive, though they had hardly taken all precautions against it. What would happen would happen, and if they are still childless once a measure of stability has been reached, then they can consider making a _special effort._

She wants to make a special effort. It is no passing fancy. For the rest of her journey to Fhirdiad she is consumed by the thought when she lies alone in bed each night. She brings herself to peaks of pleasure by imagining the ways her body would change. (She made an effort to read about pregnancy when she and Dimitri first began to lay together. Then it had been interesting but dry reading. Now these facts are anything but _dry_.)

Upon her arrival at Castle Fhirdiad Byleth accepts a gentle kiss from Dimitri. That they adore each other is no secret but Dimitri still attempts to follow propriety’s rules. If Byleth had her own way she would be wrapped up in her husband’s cloak and taken the moment they had a hint of privacy. She will concede that this desire is driven more by hunger than sense.

She tells Dimitri, when they are finally alone in the king’s suites, of her latest fascination. His eyes go dark, darker than she can remember, and he asks if she’s sure. She never asks for anything she is not certain she wants. And then he sweeps her up, taking her in his arms and kissing her with such passion that if intensity alone could impregnate her, she is certain he would have done so. 

She pulls away her clothes and his in the gasps between their kisses. At some point he settles them on the large bed they will share for the next few months. His cock slides into her with no effort. It almost surprises her, but then she has been imagining this part of their reunion all evening. She is seated in his lap, her legs around his waist, they are pressed chest-to-chest. Their height difference means Dimitri does not have to bend down to kiss her, but it is not exactly what she is craving.

“Hands and knees,” she breathes, trying to keep some small part of herself lucid while Dimitri massages her breasts in his large, firm hands.

“As you wish,” Dimitri answers, and for a moment she raises herself off his cock. She wants desperately to slam down again, to feel that small empty part of her filled. She turns around, going down on her elbows and knees, presenting her swollen, dripping sex to Dimitri. He is on his knees, hands taking hold of her hips and then he is back inside her and he sighs, content.

“Don’t move,” Byleth says, and feels a rush of power and arousal as Dimtri stops his slow rocking. She leans forward a little, feeling his cock slide from her, then thrusts back into him. Dimitri groans.

“Beloved, the things you do to me,” he says, and his fingers tighten briefly on her hips. “I love it.”

“I love you,” she answers, nearly automatic in her response. She does it again, and again. She fucks herself on his cock, trusting that Dimitri’s strength will allow him to stay steady. She finds a good angle and moans, and then she finds it again, and again. She is so close to coming, all the muscles in her hips and legs are trembling. Without warning, Dimitri thrusts forward as she thrusts back, and his cock goes so deep that there is no space left in her sex. Byleth nearly screams, her moans are so loud. Dimitri takes this as a sign, bending over slightly and joining her. If he wants to go deeper he will have to penetrate the depths of her womb. They move again, and it feels like Dimitri has the same impossible thought.

Byleth tries to keep going, but she is too lost in the bliss at the edge of orgasm. She can barely do more but catch her breath while Dimitri attempts to fuck every possible sound from her. One of his hands slides down, and she thinks he is about to play with her clit. Instead he cups her belly, his palm resting just above her fecund womb. She’s counted the days since her courses, she is certain of her own fertility. 

“I want to see you with child, our child,” Dimitri says, nearly growls. “I want everyone to see how you grow and know that we did this, together.” He presses firmly against her belly and Byleth imagines how soon his hand will be unable to cover her womb. Dimitri’s breath is stuttering, the way it always does when he is about to come. In only a second, he will fill her with his seed, and when it happens and he presses as deeply into her as possible, attempting to fill her womb, she comes around him, burying her face into the mattress and losing all thought.

She is distantly aware of Dimitri rolling them onto their sides, still inside her and occasionally twitching. He holds her against his chest, one hand resting in the cradle of her hips, as though he might be able to feel his seed take. Boneless and blissful, Byleth makes no effort to move, and only knows she fell asleep when Dimitri gently rearranges them so they can sleep on the pillows and under the blankets. She can feel slick between her legs, a mixture of their fluids that’s flowed from her body. No matter, she can ask Dimitri to fill her again when they wake.


End file.
